Harry Potter and the Magician's Curse
by P.Tankway
Summary: Two years have passed since the BoH, and Harry has settled into moving on with the next chapters of his life, now that the greatest evil the wizarding world had ever know was gone for good and peace was restored. However, another dark force was brewing, one more complicated than the last, as Harry faces a changing world and the price that's paid to be a wizard in a modern world.
1. Ch 1 Number 4 Privet Drive

Harry Potter and the Magician's Curse

A fan fiction

by

P. Tankersley

* * *

Ch. 1. Number 4 Privet Drive

There were two things Harry thought he'd never have to deal with ever again so long as he lived; one, face a nearly unfathomable evil, such as when he, his friends and, comrades did when they brought down the Dark Lord and his forces and, two, return _back_ to number 4 Privet Drive.

The _Battle of Hogwarts,_ as it was so aptly named by the Daily Prophet, was almost a hazy memory in Harry's mind now. Nearly two years had passed since those events and Harry still got a bit exhausted whenever he reflected on all that's happened. The countless interviews, handshakes and, pictures that followed were a thrill for Harry at first, but it didn't take long for the appeal to wane,at least for him. One of his best friends, Ron, however, milked the attention for all he could; only slowing down when Hermione, his other best friend, threatened to expose highly embarrassing information to the reporters if he didn't cool it.

Still, Harry was one of the first to volunteer in the restoration of his school and stood solemnly by the Weasley's side as they laid to rest one half of the coolest wizards he'd ever met...

And Harry was among the many numerous students and faculty who decided to return back to classes and finish out their seventh year, proudly welcoming a new batch of eager first years to the now highly desirable Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry remembered looking around in awe at the vast amounts of students occupying the Great Hall, which seemed expanded to accommodate the extra persons. Who didn't want to attend the school that stood against the greatest evil the world had ever faced and ended it's blanket of fear? Who didn't want to study within the hallowed halls, where Nevil Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and, the famous Harry Potter attended? It was a whirlwind of a last year, one which Harry spent the better part trying not to dwell on all of the tragedies that had happened there...

When June rolled around, the seventh years were offered a "pass" from taking the NEWTs if they so chose, due to the traumatic events of the previous months, but it was Hermione, much to both Harry and Ron's dismay, that convinced the students to take them regardless of what had happened, to show the younger years the fighting and tenacious spirit of Hogwarts. Through many long nights of studying and cramming, Harry, along with his other classmates, had done extremely well on the test, with Hermione earning Exceptionals.

Their graduation was a grand affair, complete with a royal feast in the Grand Hall and a concert by an indie band called the _Shrieking Mangragoras_ on the front lawn of the school. Everyone from the parents of the graduates, faculty and, even a few reporters that were allowed onto the premises, participated in the celebration. The festivities carried well into the night and the participants was treated to a very special and tearfully enchanted fireworks show that honored the fallen during the Battle of Hogwarts, including Severus Snape, Fred Weasley and, Albus Dumbledore...

When it came time to pack and leave Hogwarts for the final time, Harry, Ron, Hermione and a few others met with Headmaster McGonagall to discuss a few options for the future.

"I'm sure a few of you have made plans after your departure from Hogwarts-"

"Right! Like traveling around the world a bit visiting a few fa-" Ron stopped before finishing his sentence after catching the stern glares of both Headmaster _and_ Hermione. "S-sorry." he slouched back down into his seat.

"Celebrity touring, however minuscule it may be, aside, Mr. Weasley, there are a few very important options to consider." their former professor clasped her hands together and laid them in front of her on the large, wooden table. She glanced into the faces of each person present within the office before continuing. "I know a few of you will be returning and joining the work force within your hometowns. There are numerous opportunities for a young witch or wizard to use their craft for the betterment of their community. To the few of you that have yet to make a solid," she shot another look at Ron, who slumped down even further into his chair, "decision as to where to go from here, I strongly suggest you consider continuing your education in more specialized areas of magic, through apprenticeships." She then picked up her wand from the desk and tapped it against the smooth surface, making several sheets of thick parchment appear before her. Giving her wand a small _flick_ ,she caused them to rise and hover in the air, before the audience.

"On these pieces of parchment are the names of several very prominent wizards and witches who are very keen with their craft and very eager to undertake apprentices willing to learn any specialized magic. This is a great opportunity for any of you here. Miss Granger has already signed up to take an apprenticeship for Arithmancy and Alchemy."

"Of course." Ron nudged and snickered to Harry, who in turned stifled his own laughter despite Hermione's evil glare.

"I encourage all of you to consider studying a specialty and continue your pursuit in becoming a great witch or wizard." McGonagall concluded. Harry had allowed a few thoughts of his future to cross his mind during that last year; including returning to 12 Grimmauld Place to try to return the house back to livable conditions. Still, the prospect of taking up an apprenticeship with a highly skilled witch or wizard didn't sound like a bad option,either.

In the end, Harry signed up to study Defense Against the Dark Arts along with Ron, in hopes of still becoming an Auror, and he left Hogwarts that day determined to become stronger.

Over the course of the year, both Harry and Ron traveled all over the country and abroad studying how to recognize and defend against some of the darkest magic history had ever faced. All of it seemed mild, however, in comparison to his role in the Wizarding War and his face off with Voldemort, but he absorbed all he could and by year two, was considered a force to be reckoned with.

Mid-way through completing his studies as an apprentice, Harry would face the _second_ thing he was certain he'd never have to deal with again in his life.

He'd decided to visit with Ron at the Burrow after helping to investigate on some information they'd encountered involving an ogre council. He was slightly nervous at being there, seeing as he hadn't really had the time to visit much during his travels and he was certain that Ginny would be mad at him. After all was said and done at Hogwarts, he had told her of his plans and she had shared hers, both vowing to see each other as much as possible during the holidays. That hadn't played out exactly to plan.

"Don't worry,mate." Ron had reassured, as the duo trudged across the field towards the oddly crooked structure the Weasleys called home, "my sister is quite forgiving. At least more so than mum. I'm sure she'll understand why you hadn't written to her much..."

"Thanks Ron-"

"Or visited at all."

"Thanks. Ron. What about you and Hermione? Aren't you the least bit afraid of her?"

"Terrified. Which is why I kept in constant contact all this time!" Ron grinned and Harry's stomach fluttered wildly.

Harry's footsteps were heavy as they approached the door and his legs were practically cement by the time they'd entered the house. He knew from Ron that Ginny was visiting during the off season to see her newest niece, the rosy cheeked doll of Bill and Fleur's. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself when he heard her laughter from the kitchen.

"Is that Ron and Harry?" That was Martha Weasley.

"Really? They're here already? I thought they were in Greenland on investigation? Did they Apparate here?" Ginny.

"Well, let's go and greet them, shall we? It's been awhile!" _They're coming._ Harry's thoughts were barely audible in his mind through the sound of his own heart beating, which he was certain they heard. He considered stepping back outside for a moment when he felt a pair of soft arms slip around his neck and the light scent of lavender hit his nose. The figure kissed him deeply before he had the chance to open his eyes and the moment was finally stopped after Mrs. Weasley's jovial fussing.

"Now, now you two, they'll be plenty of time for that. Let's let these boys get into the house now Ginny." and in that moment, Harry's fears dissipated.

Over the next hour, the house was filled with all manner of Weasleys and their extended families, and by the time Hermione arrived, it felt a little like old times. They'd all laughed at each others' jokes and ate a lovely meal prepared by Martha. Then they'd all taken turns cooing over how cute Dominique was and how much her siblings had grown. It was only in the quiet of the late evening, when the trio, with Ginny in tow, stole away to an adjacent field, were they able to spend some personal time catching up.

"Harry," Hermione started to address him after sitting up from her relaxed position, "I've been trying to find the right moment to talk to you about this." her face was serious. Harry's mind immediately began to race. Had she encountered some dark forces during her studies? This time, he felt more than prepared to jump into action.

"Your uncle...he's fallen ill. The doctors...they don't think that he has much time left."

And that is how Harry came face to face with the other thing he didn't want to have to face ever again.

When he'd first heard the news, he was at a loss for words and in being honest with himself, perhaps a bit of a loss for feelings. Why was Hermione telling him this? He had finally been able to put the horrors that were the Dursley's behind him, so why would Hermione care to tell him that his Uncle Vernon was sick?

"Because he's your family, Harry." she had replied. She had found out through her parents, whom she had asked, to inquire about the Dursleys from time to time. She'd thought that even though Harry'd said that he never wanted to have anything to do with them again, that he didn't quite mean that, so she took every effort to keep up with their well-being.

She suggested that he go and see him. Harry contested. Ron agreed with Hermione. Harry shot back that Ron was only taking Hermione's side for obvious reasons. Ron protested. Ginny also agreed that Harry should go see his uncle and that she would go with him. He finally conceded.

Days later, Harry debated how he should send word to his aunt that he'd like to visit, certain that, however he chose to reach out, it would be met with disdain, disgust or, ignored all together. When he'd finally settled on sending a letter, Hermione had sent word that his uncle had died, passing quietly in his sleep, the night before.

So the next morning, Harry found himself on a train headed back to London alone, to catch a car back to Little Whinging...and back to Number Four, Privet Drive.

The mood was somber, his aunt, Petunia, dressed from head to toe in all black, was sobbing into the shoulder of Mrs. Figg. There was already a gathering of sympathizers, all there to comfort his now widowed aunt. The front door was open, so Harry had let himself in and made his way to the back of the living room, hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, glancing around at the different saddened faces.

"It's such a shame really, Petunia dear." an all to familiar voice struck Harry's ears like a bomb. "My brother truly did work like a bull, he did!" the voice kept going, breaking the hushed atmosphere like a siren.

"She was always a bit of a blowhard, eh, Harry?" another familiar voice spoke to him on his left side and he jerked his head in it's direction.

He was much slimmer than he was when he last saw him. A bit taller,too. Harry noticed that the black suit the bloke wore fit him rather well and the neat hair cut that framed his face, caused Harry note that his cousin finally grew into his large head.

"Dudley."

"Hey, I...wasn't quite sure if you'd even show, considering...but...I'm really glad that you did."

"Right." Harry turned his head back to look out into the crowd. His aunt had reduced her sobs to very loud sniffles by this time. The large woman shouting her condolences still had her back to Harry, though he was getting closer to remembering who she was.

"He, uh, he had another heart attack...while asleep. He...never recovered." his cousin sounded torn.

"Dudley, I'm...so...so-"

"I-I know...my father was never the best to you-"

"Tsh! That's putting it rather mildly" Harry could feel a few hurtful emotions resurfacing. He shifted his gaze to the door, where another group of visitors were shuffling in.

Dudley let out a heavy sigh before continuing.

"My father,hell...we _all_ treated you poorly. And I _know_ this doesn't begin to make-up for the way we treated you...but, I am sorry, Harry." Harry looked back over at his cousin and, as much as he'd like to doubt it, he saw the regret in his eyes. Harry ran a lazy hand through his hair, before giving his kin a half smile.

"Water under the bridge now, Dudley. I've gotten past it. Really. And I am sorry about what happened to your father."

"Right." It was Dudley's turn to shove his large hands into his pockets. Even though he regrettably favored both of his parents, he had really come into his own good looks. "Listen, there's been something I've been meaning to talk to you about, for quite some time-"

"Dudsey? Come here sweet boy! Mummy needs-" Petunia had just pulled herself away from her comforter to call out to her son when she spotted Harry.

"H-Harry? Harry Potter? How...? Why...?" she held a mixed look on her face, that Harry found hard to place. He couldn't tell if she was displeased to see him or confused. Straightening up his stance, he looked her straight in the eyes.

"Aunt Petunia. It's, ah...good to see you. Considering..." she just stared at him a moment and Harry was sure it was because she didn't quite know what to say.

"Isn't that that ungrateful and horrid nephew of yours Petunia?" The bullhorn had returned and now Harry remembered who it was.

"Aunt Marge! You look well!" Dudley stepped past Harry to embrace his aunt, Uncle Vernon's sister, the one Harry "accidentally" blew up to the size of a hot air balloon. Giving her nephew a tight squeeze, she lifted him up slightly off the ground, displaying her enormous strength.

"Look at you! Look at you! Every bit as handsome as your father! That's a good and strong Dursley stock there, I say!" she gave a hearty laugh. "Unlike what that runt is cut from!" She easily put Dudley to the side before stepping closer to Harry. Instantly feeling his body tense up, he prepared to defend himself against an onslaught.

"Never thought I'd ever see _you_ again. I just _knew_ my brother had finally gotten rid of you!" Harry could feel his teeth clench.

"Come on now Marge. Why don't you help me set out a few desserts. I'm sure the guests are-" Petunia tried to steer the ranting woman away, but to no avail.

"Thought I'd forgotten huh? You don't think I know you did it?"

"What are you-" Harry could feel his disdain for the woman returning to him as fiercely as before. He'd rarely had many run-ins with his uncle's sister in the years he spent with the Dursley's, but the last had certainly been the most horrid of them all.

"Always was weird, this one." she sneered at Harry and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Now Aunt Marge, Harry's just come to pay his respects to father." Dudley interjected.

"As he should! All your father done for the little freak show!" she had become even more boisterous than before and many of the guest had turned around to view the commotion.

"Freak show! How you'd like to be a-!" Harry felt Dudley grab his arm and pull him towards the door.

"I've got him Aunt Marge!" he called out over his shoulder as he pulled a resisting Harry along with him. Harry tried with little progress to pull his arm away from his cousin as was dragged out of the front door.

"That's right Dudley! Teach him what for! Your father would be so proud!" Aunt Marge shouted behind them even as Petunia burst out into tears once more.

Outside, Harry struggled again to right himself.

"You can let go of me now."

"Oh, sorry. I...I didn't know what else to do. I didn't want you to blow her up again. Not...with so many people watching..." Dudley glanced over at Harry briefly, before looking down at his shoes. Harry looked over at his cousin skeptically as he straightened out suit's jacket.

"You...knew that was me?" he brushed out a few wrinkles.

"Well, not at first. But thinking back on it as I got older, I kind of put it together." He grinned to himself. "She is rather insufferable. Served her right for what she said to you." Dudley looked back over at Harry and caught his eye, and the two young men shared a brief laugh.

"There...really is something I've wanted to talk to you about. Can we get out of here and talk someplace else?"

Giving his cousin a small nod, he agreed. "Sure. Let's get out of here."

* * *

The pair had found a small pub right outside of London. The sun was setting and the late evening atmosphere was settling all around the village, as many were leaving work and pouring into more relaxed places to unwind. Harry and Dudley found an empty table near a window in the back of the pub, and after ordering two beers, settled into the chairs in odd silence.

It was weird, Harry thought, as he quietly sipped his beer next to the slightly nervous young man that sat next to him. He almost showed no resemblance to the boy who helped to torture him for nearly fifteen years. He couldn't help but glance at him, every so often between sips, to see Dudley taking large gulps from his glass and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"So...you, uh, wanted to talk?" Harry finally broke the ice, unsure of how long he could sit next to his cousin in this strange moment.

"Uh, yeah, I...yes." Dudley reached out to his glass once more and took another large gulp, nearly downing the contents in one go. "I wanted to tell you...I...met someone."

Harry gave his cousin a very quizzical look. Was this _really_ what he wanted to talk to him about? Someone he hadn't talked to or seen in ages? Taking another sip of his own glass, Harry did his best to feign excitement.

"That's...that's great Dudley. Wonderful, really..."

"No...it's not...it's not that simple. She...she's..." he looked down into his glass. Harry could feel his curiosity and frustrations growing with how his cousin was dragging his feet.

"Well, go on."

"She's...she's like you."

Harry gave a small snort. "Like me? You mean, she used to be a boy?" The look on Dudley's face was enough to spur Harry into a full fit of laughter. After a few moments, Harry was able to regain a small bit of composure, before encouraging Dudley to continue.

"Sorry. Sorry mate. No really. What do you mean, 'she's like me'?"

"You know...like _you_." his voice had dropped down to nothing more than a whisper. Harry couldn't help but look at his cousin a bit strangely at his actions and leaned in closer to him.

"Do you mean to say that she's a witch?"

" _Shhhhhhh_!" Dudley looked frazzled and waved his hand at Harry erratically. " _Yes_! She's..."

"A witch." Harry watched Dudley wince slightly before relaxing into a warm smile. "Wait, are you...are you in love?" he couldn't help but ask and watched as his cousin's eyes lit up at the words. "You're serious aren't you?"

"I met her at university. We took a class together. I didn't know she was a witch at first. I kind of happened upon her floating a book down from a very high shelf in the library. I guess she thought she was alone. But, I'd been following her around a bit-"

"Creepy, but go on."

"Yeah...anyway, when I asked her about it, she became really frightened and thought I would try to hurt her or do something weird. But then, I told her you was my cousin and she...well, she didn't believe me at first, but then she said that ' _muggles_ ' wouldn't have any real idea of who that was and that I must be telling the truth. We talked for hours that day and after about a month, I asked her out. We've been together ever since." He reached out for his glass once more, but didn't bring it up to his lips. "It's weird. My whole life I was taught to fear and scorn people like you. But...this girl...Olivia...she's beautiful, she's smart, she makes me feel like I can be something better than who I am...who my parents chose to be." he gave a sad chuckle. " My mother...if she only knew what...who Olivia is..." he shook his head slowly.

"You haven't told her?"

"How can I possibly now, Harry? Olivia, she said she would stand by me, whenever I was ready, but then father got sick and...you know, there wasn't a good time for it." Harry was quiet a moment as Dudley's words sank in. His cousin, the burly brat who'd helped to make his early life miserable for years had changed so drastically! And met someone he was madly in love with! A witch, no less!

They'd sat and talked for a few hours before calling it an evening. Dudley had extended an offer to Harry to stay on Privet until the funeral, but Harry politely declined, promising that he would return to show his support at his uncle's funeral.

"And Harry. Thank you." Dudley stuck out his hand, which Harry gladly took to shake this time.

Outside the pub, the night air was cool. Harry decided to walk a bit in the moonlight before catching a car to Islington, looking to maybe finally getting a jump on his house on Grimmauld Place.

There were several people on the avenue that night, mostly couples taking advantage of the romantic air. Seeing them made Harry think of Ginny and he decided that he'd better take a moment to contact her the first chance he got. Rounding a corner, Harry paused, sensing an odd presence further down the street. Reaching inside his jacket pocket, he placed a hand around his wand. Not many people were on the street where he stood, yet, he still wanted to take extreme precaution in the presence of muggles. There hadn't been much dark activity since the day of the battle years ago, but that didn't mean Harry hadn't had his share of minor insurrections.

"What's out there? Where are you?" Harry muttered to himself just as a cab was driving by. Deciding to flag it instead of searching for the presence, the car stopped and, Harry got inside, all too eager to get away from the strange aura.

"Islington, please." he said, settling into the plush seat of the cab, his pounding heart, already slowing.


	2. The Price of Inheritance

Ch. 2. The Price of Inheritance

Harry had the driver drop him off at the end of the street when they'd arrived in Islington, wanting to walk the rest of the way to 12 Grimmauld Place. He hadn't been back since he, Ron and Hermione were forced to abandon the house nearly four years ago. Looking towards where the brownstone was supposed to stand, Harry let out a sigh. He wasn't truly looking forward with settling into the place. Aside from Hogwarts, Grimmauld probably held the most grief for him, given all that's happened. Still, his godfather had bequeathed the house to him and he thought it was at least some duty of his to see to it's upkeep, despite it's history...

His pace was slow and steady towards the old building and his mind briefly reflected on harsher times-times when the place was once the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Unseen and undetected by muggles for years, the grand brownstone now stood in plain sight to muggle and magical alike; it's secrecy long blown by Corban Yaxley during the, then, much younger trio's nearly fatal, final adventures. He remembered Kingsley reaching out to him a year afterwards, explaining how the muggles' minds within the neighborhood had already been altered to accommodate number twelve's "appearance".

Finally reaching the stone steps of the building, Harry paused before going up. He'd kept one hand clasped tightly around his wand since the cab ride and now as he stood in the dim lighting of the streetlamp, he spoke out.

"You can stop stalking me now, I'm not running." he could sense that, whoever had been following him had stopped too, yet, they kept concealed to the patch of darkness within the alleyway, away from the light of the lamp. It had been awhile since Harry felt even a slight twinge of danger, not since the days of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Not even during his studies as an apprentice Auror has he yet to come face to face with anything near as dangerous as he had just a few years prior. He steadied his breathing; the wild, adventurous fear he'd once held as a younger boy had long since dissipated and had been replaced with a much calmer, more actualized wizard.

"I won't give much more warning than that, so why don't you come on out already." A few brief moments passed before Harry heard the echo of footsteps from beyond the dark. Harry slowly turned around from where he stood on the stoop, not making any effort to get closer to the approaching stranger and never once releasing his grip on the wand within his inside pocket.

Standing in the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp, the stranger stood. Harry squinted to try to make out the figure that was only a short ways away from him. He appeared to be an older gentleman that Harry was certain he'd never seen before. He wore a cream colored, tailored suit, that held a patch on the top left side of the jacket, that Harry wasn't able to make out from his distance. The man sported a very neat haircut; the salt and pepper color of it glinting faintly in the dim light and the dark brown oxfords he sported complimented his orderly presentation. He grinned at Harry when their eyes met, but Harry didn't think it was a particularly _friendly_ gesture; on the contrary, it seemed a bit like forced politeness.

"Pardon my lack of manners, Mr. Potter." he took a step closer and Harry held his defensive stance. "I don't blame you for being on guard, you _are_ wildly famous still, I suppose. I'm sure there are a few who aren't as pleased with your past accomplishments as others may be." the man took another step forward. Harry never dropped his gaze.

"I won't ask how you know who _I_ am, but I will ask who _you_ are."

"Again," the older man looked down briefly as he let out a small chuckle. "my manners seemed to be failing me tonight. May I?" he extended his hand outwardly and Harry looked at it a moment, before giving him a small nod. The man's grin broadened and he quickly closed the gap between he and Harry, and after the briefest of hesitations, Harry finally let go of his wand to reach out to shake the man's hand.

"Rupert Brimble," Harry could see his gray eyes flash, "Director of the Cultural Preservation of Extraordinary Artifacts."

"The Director of-"

"the Cultural Preservation of Extraordinary Artifacts. Yes. Director. Rupert Brimble." The man's plastered grin widened and Harry stared back skeptically before letting go of his hand.

"OK..." Harry finally managed to reply. "Is...is that department apart of the Ministry of -"

"Magic?" the man bluntly interrupted. "Oh yes! Newly formed, actually. I have great references, too. Kingsley Shaklebot, the Prime Minister of Magic, was quite excited about it's insertion."

"He was?"

"Oh yes, quite." Mr. Brimble rushed on and Harry was starting to feel the onset of unease.

"OK, M-Mr. Brim-"

"Brimble."

"Yes. _Brimble_." Harry cleared his throat in a mildly annoyed manner. "Now that we've been _introduced_ , what is it that you want with me exactly? I need to get some rest soon. Have to get a bit of an early start in the morning."

"Oh yes, the burial service for your _dear_ Uncle Vernon." Harry suddenly felt alarmed and he narrowed his eyes at the man standing one step below him.

"How do you know about my uncle's passing?"

"Oh dear Mr. Potter, there are quite a few things we know. It _is_ the job of the Cultural Preservation, of course, to be privy to these sorts of things." He let out another low chuckle, before clearing his throat after peering Harry's peeved look.

"Beautiful building you've been bequeathed here, Mr. Potter. So much history right amongst...so many innocents..." Mr. Brimble turned away from Harry slightly and looked at the towering building behind them. "Such a dangerous place..." he appeared to say this more to himself, Harry thought, which was barely above a whisper, and he instinctively attempted to strain his ears to catch what the old man said.

"Excuse me?"

"You've been given quite a few... _wonderful_ items and artifacts and we at the Department are very interested in speaking with you further about perhaps _donating_ a number of them in a new museum we are seeking to -"

"I'm sorry. Mr. Bimble, was it?"

"It's Brimble."

"Brimble... _right_." Harry turned a bit to face the older man once more. "I'm not interested in donating any items at the moment." Harry started up the steps towards the front door of the brownstone.

"Do you think it's wise for any one man...any one _wizard_ , to have that many magical and dangerous items at their disposal...solely to themselves?" Mr Brimble's sudden cold tone struck Harry's ears like hard steel hitting pavement. Slowly, Harry turned back around to face the man in the tailored,cream suit and polished oxfords, his gray eyes staring steely into Harry's green one's with growing disdain.

"How do you know what I have?" This time, the sound Mr. Brimble uttered, was that of a snicker.

"Oh, I know about the cloak, the map, that _wand_..."

"Who are you, really?" Harry could feel his whole body tighten with a surging anger, even as his feet began to move back down the stone steps and again, closer to where Mr. Brimble stood.

"I didn't _lie_ , Mr. Potter," the older gentleman dropped back a few steps from the younger wizard, visibly distancing himself. "I'm just a simple man, hoping to preserve a very _unique_ culture in a...modern world." He had made his way back onto the street below. "I'll contact you again, Mr. Potter. I hope it can be under better circumstances." He turned completely away from Harry and headed back into the darkness of the street. He was once again, almost completely shrouded by the night, before calling out over his shoulder. "Oh, and do give my condolences to your dear, sweet Aunt Petunia for her loss." and before Harry had the chance to reply, he was gone.

"Ron, listen, can't you just, get here? I really need to talk to somebody in person about this."

"I dunno, Harry." Harry watched the wavering greenish flames within the fireplace as he supposed Ron had taken a bite of something, because a few seconds later, he could see Ron chewing.

"What don't you know,Ron?" Harry tried his best not to sound exasperated.

"Me ' _smack smack_ _'_ and ' _smack_ ' Her ' _smack_ ' mione, are supposed to go out to grab a late bite to eat _'_ _smack'_ _._ " Harry could see Ron wipe his mouth lazily with the back of his hand, which seemed even more exaggerated through the haze of the Floo network connection.

"Ron, _please_. I wouldn't bother otherwise, but, since we're both apprentice Aurors, we should look a bit more into this. Can't you make something up? I'm sure she'd understand." Harry looked down into the flames with a pleading look.

It wasn't that Harry had anything against Hermione knowing about his unpleasant visit, or even coming along to hear about it from him- seeing as she'd probably be a bit more useful in an investigation – if he was being completely honest. No, it was more like he'd hope that Hermione would spend some time with Ginny, to keep _her_ from wanting to come along, as he'd already had a hard time convincing her to stay behind when he'd finally decided to go to his uncle's funeral.

"OK mate, but if I do this, you owe me. _Majorly_."

"Right. Anything. Just get here...quickly,OK?" Harry stepped away from the hearth and started pacing the middle of the large living room. Aside from a few dusty spots here and there, the house wasn't half as bad as it used to be. There hadn't been much upkeep since Kreacher had gone, but Harry at least thought it was more livable than it had been in years.

After a few moments of intense pacing, Harry heard the telltale ' _pop_ ' of an Apparating wizard, into the room.

"Ron!"

"I never get used to that." Ron lamented after his arrival. "It's as awful as it's ever been." he immediately found the nearest sofa and plopped down on it. Harry took a few more steps about the room before looking over at his friend.

"What?"

"I'm surprised you decided to Apparate."

"Well," Ron grabbed one side of his head briefly, " I had to be quick. Hermione's questioning as to why I wanted to reschedule was getting closer to the truth. I _couldn't_ use the Floo Network to get here, they'd nearly caught me talking to you through it earlier! Then Ginny was starting in on it...I had to get out of there fast!" Harry, however, didn't give Ron much time to dwell on his great escape much longer before he refocused the conversation.

"Well, I'm glad you were able to get away. Something very strange happened to me when I arrived here."

"That weird visitor you were speaking about earlier?"

"Right."

"You don't reckon he's connected to ' _you know who_ '? Like, you don't think he's still got a few loyal Death Eater rejects, still floating about, do you?"

Harry walked over and sat next to his friend. He remained quiet a moment while he thought about what Ron had said. It wasn't completely unreasonable to think that a few extreme loyalist weren't still lurking about somewhere; after all, the man was a very powerful and highly influential wizard. However, Harry remarked how relatively peaceful it's been over the last few years.

"No. I didn't get the impression that he was connected to Voldemort in any way, but, he did give off a rather dreadful vibe." Harry concluded.

"Really? What'd you say his name was again?"

"Rupert Brimble."

After a few moments of silence, Ron shook his head slowly. "Not ringing any bells. Though, I _can_ ask dad if he's heard of any new department recently created at the ministry." Ron offered hopefully.

"Good idea." Harry nodded and watched curiously as his friend stood up suddenly and started to dig around in his pants pockets. After a few moments, he pulled out a small rectangular object with a look of satisfaction on his face.

"Wait. What is – is that a mobile phone? Why do you have a mobile phone?" Harry couldn't help but ask Ron, with a look of clear confusion, as he watched his best mate hold the device up into the air like he'd just captured the golden snitch.

"Hermione got it for me! Isn't it wonderful?" There was a dazzled glint in the red-head's eyes. "Dad spoke of it for years and I always thought he was bonkers, but it's true! Muggles truly _are_ capable of making some _amazing_ things!" Harry watched his friend squint down at the glowing numbers on the keypad and start to punch at it with his finger.

"Now...what was her number again...?" Ron started muttering to himself as he poked at the buttons.

"W-who are you calling?"

"Hermione, of course! We haven't gotten dad one yet. She's gonna have to pass the bloody thing over to him. Though, I do hope he lets me get a word out this time. The last time I tried to speak to him on this thing, he yelled into for nearly an hour on whether I could hear him clearly or not!" He chuckled to himself. Harry really found the whole bit amusing, but fought hard to stay on task.

"You're going to use your mobile to call your dad -"

"Yes -"

"To ask him about Rupert Brimble -"

"Yes -"

"In _front_ of Hermione?"

"Y-yes..."

"After you blew her off?"

"Oh." The soft coo of the mobile phone's ringing through it's speaker after Ron had unconsciously completed the call, startled them both out of their banter and before Ron could scramble to find the ' _end_ ' button, Hermione had already answered it and was thoroughly expressing her disdain.

"Ron? Where _are_ you?"

"H-hey -"

"What type of excuse is, 'I've got to buy more _toilet_ paper' is there for canceling on me! In the middle of the night! Then to Disapparate! What are you doing?" Harry could hear the anger in her voice, which gave him immediate flashbacks to their days at Hogwarts.

"Wait a moment, Hermione -"

"No, _Ron_ , I won't! We'd planned this for days and you give me some lame excuse as to why we can't spend any time together to go do – God knows what you're doing -"

"Hold on -" Ron tried once more to interject.

"and you KNOW I have to leave out early tomorrow! We won't _get_ another moment like this for _months_!" Harry could hear her huffing through the speaker, even though it was still pressed to Ron's ear and he imagined her hair getting frizzier with every word.

"Hermione, _please_! I'm truly sorry and I'll make it up to you, I swear! But you've got to listen right now!" Ron finally managed to get his words out.

There was a short pause before she spoke.

"Go on."

"Is my dad awake right now?"

"Wh-what?"

"Dad," he pressed, "has he fallen asleep yet?"

"N-not really. He's in the sitting room nodding off, I think...why? You want to talk to him? In the middle of the night? Why can't you just come back and talk to him in person? Ro-"

Ron let out an obviously exasperated sigh.

"Hermione. I really don't have time to explain." Harry could see Ron getting more nervous by the second. He never was any good at keeping anything secrete, _especially_ when Hermione sensed that there was something he wasn't fully telling.

It was quiet for just a few seconds before she started up again. Ron, in his fear of cutting her off moments earlier, had removed the phone from his ear, allowing Harry to hear her clearly.

"Are you with Harry?"

Ron's prolonged silence was a dead give away. Harry shot his friend a mildly annoyed, stern look, before nudging him on the arm to say something to her. Quickly.

"N-no-"

Where _are_ you?"

"I'm no-"

" _Ron_."

'We're at Grimmauld Place..." he barely whispered out in utter defeat as Harry let his head dropped back to the head rest of the couch, in slight irritation.

"I'm on my way." The words had barely traveled through the mobile's speaker before the two men heard the loud pop of Hermione's Apparating resounding in their ears and her look of shear lividness.

"I can't _believe_ the _nerve_ of the two of you! Ron! Running off just to meet with Harry? You didn't have to lie to do that! I-I don't understand you two sometimes!" She had indeed, worked herself into a frenzy, just as Harry had suspected. He watched her pace the room furiously, her eyes flashing between her two friends, her nostrils flaring with added anticipation.

"And _you_ Harry should know better!" she paused right in front of him to bark out her disgust.

"What for? I really needed to talk to him. And if you'd only calm down, I can tell you as well, since you're here." Harry watched her stomp across the floor for a few more paces, before stopping in front of the two, crossing her arms and, looking him straight in the eyes; her stern demeanor still as set as it was when she'd first arrived.

"Fine. But just so you know. If Ginny ever found out I saw you without her-"

"I know. I know. Thanks for not bringing her."

"Harry, what's going on. I'm not...I'm not upset that you wanted to meet with _Ron,_ " she shot a look over to the red-head, who just seemed to sink further into the seat cushion. "but if it's something extremely important or dangerous..."

"I honestly don't know. I just know...I know that this doesn't feel right." Harry started, before settling into the retelling of his unexpected meeting with Rupert Brimble and his odd request.

"The Cultural Preservation of Extraordinary Artifacts? I've never heard of that. And he said he's with the Ministry of Magic?" She had taken a seat in a nearby armchair, listening intently to every word that Harry spoke.

"Newly established."

"Is that why you wanted to call your dad? To confirm?" she turned her head to look at Ron, who had been pecking away at his mobile phone over the last few minutes.

"Well, yeah..." he paused long enough to look over at her and immediately felt his face flush hot when he saw her smile.

"Clever thinking."

"Ah, well, you know..." he stammered and immediately dropped his eyes back down to the small, shinning, mint green, screen he held in his palm.

"What do want to do about this,Harry? Do you think he'll come back? I mean, if he's collecting a number of magical items to put in some sort of museum.. it's not exactly _odd_ , but, I wonder..." she leaned back into the chair, a thoughtful look set into her face. "How does he know that you became the Elder wand's master?" even though she had asked that question out loud, Harry felt that she wasn't really _asking_ him. He could practically _see_ the gears turning about in her head.

"Harry, I want to do a bit of research on this Rupert Brimble person, but it's going to take a bit of time."

"What about your studies? Weren't you headed back out in the morning?" Although Harry appreciated his friend's invitation to help him, he didn't want it to be at the expense of her academic advancement.

"Well, I could have completed my apprenticeship _months_ ago. I just pushed for advanced research and independent study work." she replied nonchalantly.

 _Of course._

 _"_ In the meantime," she continued, "you and Ron should head to the Ministry of Magic to speak to Kingsley Shaklebot. See what you can find out on this new department. Contact me if you find anything out. If there is something starting to brew beneath the surface, it's best we get the jump on it as soon as possible."


End file.
